Bill grinned widely. "Something tells me you knew all along you'd be arrested the minute you brought a ship down here without entry credentials." The outer fringe of the market-place crowd surged suddenly. Bill quickly swerved his glance, for a minute half expecting the Uvans to froth over and charge the pillories. This, however, seemed to be a wild surmise for the Uvans stood around, for all the world looking like a peaceful, deeply preoccupied convention of scientists and professors. Many of them carried umbrellas, some open, others closed. Many appeared to be puzzled as to why they were in the market-place at all. Then Bill saw the cause of the disturbance. A lean, thatch-haired earthman moved through the crowd. He was dressed in a _mono_, the belted, coverall uniform strictly reserved for Interworld Government officials. The Uvans moved respectfully aside, opening a channel to the pillories. He stopped directly before Bill and gazed up in a half bewildered fashion. "I'm Webster," he said. "Interworld Government representative on Uva. There's going to be a trial. I suppose you're the people up for trial?" "A trail for what?" Bill asked. Webster flashed Bill a disconcerted look, then turned and conferred with three official looking Uvans, some of whose eyes were at the backs of their heads. A low, earnest conversation ensued. Finally Webster fastened his eyes on Bill, appealingly. "Do you mind telling me who's responsible?" he asked. "What do you mean?" Bill demanded, impatiently. "Look here," said Webster, "you don't understand. There's going to be a trial. That's certain. But I might tell you for your own good, the Uvans are most absent-minded. They can't remember the charges against more than one person so I'd like to know which one of you is responsible. All of you can't be responsible. It just won't do. Now, which one of you caused the trouble?" Bill glanced at Kitty, then at Castlebottom. Uva began to exhibit signs of unlimited promise for an alert freebooter. Bill twisted his pinioned left hand, crooking an accusing finger at Castlebottom. "He's the trouble," said Bill. "Miss Carlton and I came together. I'll show you my credentials. We're here to get an _equals_ for the Fuel Monopoly. This tubby chap stowed away on our ship. He's trying to smuggle liquor into Uva." "Liquor?" A curious, tense note entered Webster's voice. "Liquor, did you say?" "It's a bald lie. I did no such thing," Castlebottom protested chokingly. "You know who I am? Ask Miss Carlton. She'll tell you who I am." Commissioner Webster stared appreciatively at Kitty Carlton who, even though her head was caught in a pillory, would still be the toast of three planets. "I never saw the fat man in my life," Kitty protested. "That settles it then," said Webster. "Liquor. Hmm, a sadness, too. It could have been something else." He conferred again with the Uvan officials.